Kurt knew it. He could feel it. This was their year.

"Welcome back, ladies."

It was instinct. He knew what was coming next. He crossed his arms in front of his face and squeezed his eyes shut, cursing himself for wearing short sleeves because he could feel it slapping against his bare arms harder than any drink ever should, and trickling into his shirt and down his sides.

But then he remembered the strangled squawk that had taken place a moment earlier, and the shocked spluttering that was going on now, and he realized that oh, crap. Blaine.

He opened his eyes and impatiently brushed the corn syrup off of his face, only to see Blaine frozen in place, his eyes squeezed shut.

"What-the hell-was that?" He seemed to be trying to talk around the crushed ice around his mouth, which was pretty much impossible because it was melting quickly and dripping sickeningly off of his chin.

"It's just slushie, Blaine, don't worry."

"Oh." His arms still stung from the awful stuff hitting them at 20 miles per hour, but he nevertheless grabbed Blaine's hand and tugged him towards the bathroom, which was conveniently right next to them. It was nice to see that they had taken bathroom location into consideration when plotting their attack, Kurt thought wryly.

And now it was drying on his face, which he just now remembered was the worst part, because it hardened into this terribly crusty film that would take weeks of extra moisturizing just to get rid of.

Blaine's eyes were still squinched together, as were his lips. The only thing on his face that seemed to be moving was his nose; taking short, sharp breaths. Kurt sighed and guided him over to the seat in front of the sink that used to belong to a teacher, but had now found its permanent home in the bathroom where it could be accessed by any dork who had someone willing to help them clean congealed corn syrup off their face.

"You can breathe, you know. It's not poisoned; they're not that smart." Blaine released a pent-up breath and his shoulders relaxed.

"I'd keep my eyes closed, though. Cherry's the worst."

"Mm." There was a silence, not quite awkward but not quite comfortable either. It was just sort of there, filling in the space between words, some of which would inevitably happen and some of which already had.

"Does this, uh…happen a lot?"

"Almost every day," Kurt tried to say casually, but ended up being just a little too bitter to come off as such. And because Blaine was frowning so deeply, he added, "Well, at least we were never thirsty." Followed by that awkward chuckle that rose from the back of his throat and just sort of hung in the air long after it had died down. Deciding that conversation wasn't going to get them anywhere, much less to first period on time, he gently pushed on Blaine's chest so that he was leaning back against the sink and began to meticulously rinse out his hair. And Kurt could've sworn he heard him sigh quietly.

"Do you always use this much gel?" He was having a hard enough time getting his fingers through Blaine's hair, let alone getting any of the slushie out.

Another vague grunt of affirmation followed. Kurt sighed deeply and intentionally overdramatically.

"What?" Kurt could tell that Blaine was aching to crack open his eyes, so he gave up on the hair and began gently scrubbing off his face, sitting himself down on Blaine's knee. He had prepared a sarcastic response, but instead found himself saying,

"I would've expected those Neanderthals to at least let us spend the first day of school free of corn syrup."

"It's not a big deal." Blaine had finally opened his eyes, and Kurt met them. And he knew, he just knew, that Blaine didn't mean it. Not really, because he saw the way that Blaine's fists clenched and unclenched all the way into school, and the way he had to keep taking deep breaths as if to steady himself, and the way that every time someone glared at them, he'd glare pointedly right back. He saw the way that Blaine hesitated just a fraction of a second before stepping into school, the way that he'd take a fraction of a shuffle away every time a letterman jacket passed them.

So, shaking his head ever-so-slightly, Kurt leaned down and wrapped his arms around Blaine shoulders, resting his head on one of them.

"You don't always have to be the brave one, you know." Blaine didn't say anything. He barely moved aside from tightening his arms around Kurt's waist a tiny bit and shifting his legs so they were just that much closer.

"I'm just tired," Blaine murmured. Kurt backed up but kept his hands on Blaine's shoulders, because if there was one thing that he had learned during the time that they'd been dating, it was that Blaine liked physical contact. Which had been a little awkward for him on more than one occasion, but not something that he couldn't get used to.

"Just one more year!" Kurt said, intending to sound cheerful but probably coming off as more sarcastic. But Blaine smiled anyway, which, despite the enormous amount of time spent looking it, still made Kurt's stomach flutter. So he gave Blaine's forehead a final scrub before determining that it was pretty much a lost cause and stood up, because Blaine had probably lost all feeling in his left leg right now, which was not going to get him to first period any faster.

Blaine stood up, and, sure enough, winced a little bit as he put weight on his left leg before flexing it out. He then scratched the back of his head and frowned.

"This stuff is itchy."

"Just wait until it dries. It takes days of showering just to get the stains off." Another awkward chuckle followed by silence. Blaine made a face and said something that sounded like "Ouch."

"Well, let's go then. We wouldn't want to be late." Blaine chuckled and, still smiling, took Kurt's proffered hand.

Oh yeah.

It was totally their year.